


Five Times Remus and Sirius Went Out Into the Snow, and One Time They Stayed Inside

by huldrejenta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Community: rs_small_gifts, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Era, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13207521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huldrejenta/pseuds/huldrejenta
Summary: What it says on the tin. Or: Five times Remus broke a rule, and one time he made a new one.





	Five Times Remus and Sirius Went Out Into the Snow, and One Time They Stayed Inside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [muse_in_absentia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse_in_absentia/gifts).



> Happy Holidays!  
> Many thanks to the lovely [RuinsPlume](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RuinsPlume/pseuds/RuinsPlume) for beta reading!

**i.**

The number one rule his parents had imprinted in Remus before he left for Hogwarts was _don’t get too close to anyone_.

There were other rules as well, like _study hard_ and _stay out of trouble_ and _don’t do anything to make Dumbledore regret giving you this chance_. But the most important, plain and simple, was not to get close to his schoolmates. 

Remus wasn’t surprised. He’d lived more than half his life knowing what he was: the terror people whispered about in the dark, the horror grown-ups told stories about to scare naughty children. Danger was as inescapable a part of him as his skin or his bones or his heart, and no one could know. 

It should be easy enough. Pretty basic stuff, really. Don’t become friends with people who must never know what he was. People he’d be giving the choice of telling on him or risk being dragged down with him if they ever found out. He couldn’t do that to them. Couldn’t do that to himself.

And then the Universe presented him with the gift of Peter, James and Sirius, nicely wrapped in shiny paper with a bow on top. “Here you go,” the Universe said. “I have a dare for you, Lupin; try not getting too close to this lot!”

Against the force of nature that was his roommates, his parents’ rule stood no chance. Remus started bending it almost from day one, just a little, like throwing a tiny stone into the water where you weren’t allowed to play, and when the ripples on the surface had disappeared and nothing dangerous had happened, it was easy to throw a bigger stone. Until he’d abandoned all pretense and jumped in.

By the time winter rolled around in his first year he had long since become one of the guys.

“Ooh, yes!” said James one early morning with his usual enthusiasm, looking out of the dormitory window. “Guys, it’s snow outside!”

True enough; the castle and the grounds had been covered by a layer of white during the night, and the four of them trudged down to the lake to play as soon as their classes were over. 

In the snowball fight that inevitably followed, James quickly built a fort and stocked up enough snowballs to last a couple of rounds. He insisted Peter be their team’s sniper hiding in the fort, while James took on the role as a runner to go on surprise attacks. 

Apparently, it wasn’t until Sirius had climbed up a pine tree and called for Remus to join him that James realised the opposing team wasn’t there anymore.

“Oi, it’s just you and me now, Peter!” he yelled, diving behind his fort to pick up as many snowballs as he could carry. “This means one on one war!” 

“You’re on,” Peter said, running to a big stone where he’d hidden his own stack of snowballs, with an impressive war shout.

Sirius snickered into his mittens and wriggled around a bit on the slender branch. He put his arm around Remus once he’d got up there, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like Sirius was sitting next to just another normal boy. Inside Remus’ head there was a blissful voice singing _he chose to be with me_. He tried his best to quell the other voice, the one that declared _he wouldn’t if he knew_.

“James never stops playing, does he?” said Sirius, sounding terribly fond. “Sometimes I like to just sit and watch for a bit.” 

He turned to Remus and said, “Hey, we’re friends, right?” 

Remus nodded, quickly, dazed. Guilty. 

“Before I came to Hogwarts,” Sirius said, “I was certain that I’d end up with a bunch of stuck-up idiots as my roommates, down in the Slytherin dungeons.” He smiled at Remus, sending waves of delight through him. “And instead I ended up with you lot.” 

The playful shouting from the ground reached a particularly high level and Sirius laughed. “Still a bunch of idiots, mind. But I’m glad I met you guys.”

“So am I,” Remus said, smiling back, unguarded, almost as if it was a good idea. He bit down the darkness inside of him, choked on it, and wondered what it would be like. Being able to appreciate your friends without the ever-nagging thought that this wasn’t actually for you. 

He remembered fragments he’d heard, muttered in the corners of the castle, stories of Sirius’ parents floating around and what they wanted for their son. Maybe there was no other first year who could’ve understood Remus’ mixed emotions about friendship better than Sirius, even if in a different way. Of course he could never say that to Sirius, and there was no reason for the thought to be comforting, or to matter at all.

And yet, somehow it did matter. It did. Remus scooted closer on the snow-covered branch and grabbed Sirius’ mitten with his own, feeling very much at home. 

**ii.**

Everyone knew that werewolves could never be trusted. Human form or not, it didn’t make all that much of a difference. Just ask any witch or wizard. Everyone knew those beasts were dripping with deceit and betrayal, dipped in a pool of lies and covered by a thick layer of hate. 

Remus had no illusions about how the world worked. He needed to be extra careful, extra good, extra kind, or else they’d be right, all those who’d condemn him if they knew, and they might know one day. It wasn’t as if he could stay under Hogwarts’ safe wings forever. People would judge him and they would see everything less than immaculate as proof they’d been right all along.

He was a fourth year who wanted what most fourth years wanted, to belong. And he did, he did; his friends _knew_ and he still belonged, how about that? But he couldn’t let go, not like they could. He couldn’t follow his impulses towards the occasional prank and causing some mayhem without hearing that voice, the one that said _well, you may be a monster, but there’s no need to act like one_.

What a fucking irony, right? Because he didn’t really have it in him to say anything when his friends took the pranks too far either. So there he was, stuck between holding back on the things he actually wanted out of fear he’d live up to the monster myth, and not daring to speak up whenever a prank entered the territory of being too mean out of fear he’d push them away. Them – his friends who’d embraced _him_. 

“We’re nearly there,” James said, peeking out from his Invisibility Cloak as the four of them inched towards the part of the lake closest to the Slytherin dungeons. It was dark and icy, and a thin layer of snow covered the slippery grounds, making it hard to see where to put their feet. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Peter said, nearly stepping on Remus’ foot in the dark. 

“Of course it’ll work.” James dismissed any worry with a shrug. “All we’re going to do is Charm the squid to turn red and gold when it swims past the Slytherin Common Room window. It’s as straightforward as it gets.”

“I didn’t even have time to add an extra insult for Snivellus,” Sirius said, right behind Remus. “It’s embarrassing, really. Not at all up to our usual standards.”

“Well, I’m freezing my bollocks off,” Peter said, “so I suggest we get a move on.”

“I’d get a move on if you’d stop elbowing me all the time,” James hissed.

“I’d stop elbowing you if I could see anything!” 

“Lumos,” said Remus, laughing, and the four of them kept going.

Afterwards, when the proper Charms were cast, with an additional twist that may or may not cause the squid to perform selected moves from the victory dance of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team, Sirius fell in step with Remus. They were back inside the castle, the two of them walking down the hall, and James and Peter had already disappeared behind the Fat Lady and into the common room.

“I bet no one except James and Peter and I knows how your eyes light up when we’re out pulling pranks.” Sirius smiled, looking delighted at the idea of knowing things the rest of the school didn’t. Remus seemed to be providing plenty of those. “Who’d ever believe that the nice Mr Lupin has such a devious side to him?”

“They all would,” Remus said without thinking, “if only they knew what I am.”

Sirius stopped walking, abruptly. He had a solemn expression on his face, one Remus had never seen before.

“But you like it, right? The mischief, I mean.”

Of course Remus liked it. It wasn’t nearly as important as the sense of belonging; the fact that they were doing it together was more important than what exactly they were doing. But hell, yeah, he liked it.

“Then you should keep doing it, that’s what I think.” Sirius sounded so sure, so certain of what he was saying, and why wouldn’t he be? He wasn’t the one who carried this particular conflict behind his ribs.

“I mean,” Sirius continued, casting a quick Muffliato even if no one was around to listen in, “if you stop doing things you like because people might have their own fucked-up interpretations.... if you stop pulling pranks because you’re afraid people will say it’s the wolf that does it, then maybe the wolf is getting too much say in your life? By stopping you from doing what you like?”

“Maybe,” Remus said, hesitant. It was true, but it wasn’t as simple as that. There was no escaping the wolf no matter which choices he made.

But still. For now he wanted to enjoy this. The friendship and the joy and the messing about. As long as no one else knew about him, he should be all right, and he told Sirius as much.

“Good,” said Sirius, smiling. "That's good." 

And together they followed their friends into the common room.

**iii.**

None of them had ever said it out loud. They didn’t have to, they knew each other too well for that. They all knew that if people out there put any of the Marauders in danger, in real danger of any kind, the four of them would be quick to retaliation and late at forgiveness. 

It was an unspoken rule, emerging from a fierce need to protect their group, to protect each other against whatever could tear them apart. The four of them; an indestructible unit ready to take on any fight.

Nothing too complicated about that. What this unspoken rule didn’t describe, was how to deal with it when the attack against one Marauder’s place at Hogwarts and the wizarding community came from within the group. There was no clause to cover a friend putting you in danger for no other reason than thoughtlessness and a childish feud against Severus Snape. What then?

“You’ll have to speak to him someday,” James said. He and Peter had forgiven Sirius, eventually, and after a scolding like none of them had ever heard from James before.

“Maybe,” said Remus. He _was_ speaking to Sirius, all the time. Had been all autumn. If one could call _may I have the pumpkin juice, please_ or _no, I’m afraid I haven’t seen Peter today_ or _no, I haven’t got any extra shrivelfig for Potions_ actually talking.

It wasn’t so much that Remus couldn’t forgive Sirius. They were talking about _Sirius_ after all, the one person who understood Remus better than Peter, better than James, even, and Remus could no longer fathom a world where Sirius wasn’t his friend. But the same point that made it impossible for Remus not to forgive him, was the same point that made it impossible to understand how Sirius could’ve done it in the first place.

“It’s not a big puzzle or anything.” Sirius kicked his foot into the sludge, focusing his eyes at the end of Hogsmeade’s High Street. Peter and James had oh-so-subtly remembered they had an urgent errand at Dervish and Banges, and it was just Remus and Sirius standing in the unseasonably early snow that turned to wet slush as soon as it hit the street. 

“I did it because I’m an idiot. Because I don’t think when I’m angry. Because Snivellus is a slimy, vicious sleazeball who keeps sticking his humongous nose into other people’s business. Because I thought it would be the ultimate prank. But mostly because I’m an idiot.”

His voice got more and more agitated as he spoke, and Remus could feel his throat closing up. He was so tired of this thing between them. So fucking tired.

Sirius turned to Remus, looking at him, helplessly. “But I didn’t do it because I wanted to hurt you. I didn’t....” He shut his eyes, a strangled sob escaping his throat. “Never you, Remus.” His eyes opened again, wide and earnest, and Remus believed him. “I’d never hurt you, Merlin, not ever, I’m so sorry, I’d never....”

There was a choice to be made here. Remus could brush Sirius off; him and his tears and his apology, in the middle of High Street. Pretend this didn’t happen and go back to being hurt and confused and tired. Or he could grab this and pull it in close, hold on to it, break his own rule about those who betrayed his secret and acknowledge what a part of him had known all along. That Sirius Black could be thoughtless and cruel. His friend was a multitude of many layers, and not all of them good.

But the thickest layers. The ones that cut the deepest, all the way to the very core of Sirius. Those were worth fighting for. 

“I’ve missed you,” Remus said, creakingly. His throat was dry all of a sudden and the words difficult to form.

“Holy fuck, Remus. I’ve missed you too, so so much.”

He put his arms around Remus, pulling him into a hug, and Remus went willingly. Hogsmeade was bleak and dark and covered in grey slush, and they stood there, hugging, and thawing, just a little. They stood there until a group of seventh years walked passed them making loud whistling noises, effectively ruining the moment. 

It didn’t matter. The moment stayed alive inside Remus, and he suspected that he wasn’t the only one.

**iv.**

Of all the foolish things he could do. Of all the stupid rules he could break. _Come on, Remus, not that one, please not that one._ He knew better.

Finding friends and getting close to them was one thing. Falling in love was quite another. 

He loved Sirius, of course he did. They all loved Sirius, he and James and Peter, the chosen few who Sirius cared about enough to pull into his light. But Remus couldn’t even be bothered trying to convince himself that what he was feeling now was the same thing.

So he lay awake in his four-poster bed at night, wondering when it all started; the twisting in his stomach when Sirius’ gaze captured his own, the way he noticed every movement of Sirius’ hands or how his hair fell softly against his collar. 

If the Universe laughed when Remus was eleven, presenting him with three roommates not to get close to, it must all be a big cosmic joke now, putting Sirius right in front of him without providing any defense, any barbed wire around Remus’ heart. Sirius, who put his feet in Remus’ lap or his head against Remus’ shoulder whenever they were relaxing in the common room. Sirius, who was the last to leave and the first to show up again around the full moon. Sirius, who waltzed around wearing nothing but his boxers in their dormitory on a regular basis, utterly oblivious to what he was doing to Remus. 

That was his one consolation, Remus thought as the four of them were walking back to the castle, ankle-deep in snow. They’d been watching the Ravenclaw Quidditch team beat Slytherin with crushing numbers; the Marauders’ spirits were accordingly high, and Remus was acutely aware of Sirius’ mitten-clad hand brushing against his own. His consolation was what it had been all winter: at least no one knew what a fool he was. 

“Sixth year seems to be the year we all fall in love,” Peter said, sending a longing look at the cute Hufflepuff he’d been waxing poetic about for months.

“I dunno,” James said. “I’ve known who I was going to marry since I was eleven.”

Sirius snickered into his scarf. “Too bad your future wife hasn’t had the same epiphany.”

“Oh, but she will.” 

“As for you, Peter,” Remus said, watching a cloud of Sirius’ breath dissolving in the cold air, “that Hufflepuff seems to be a feisty sort. You’d have your work cut out for you if the two of you got together.”

“I know,” Peter said dreamily. “We would be fighting all the time and have passionate make-up sex. It’d be bloody brilliant.”

“Maybe you should lower your ambitions to regular sex,” James said. “Seems a bit more within reach. For us all, really.” 

“Well, I haven’t fallen in love,” Sirius said, “so that ‘everyone falls in love in sixth year’ is a load of rubbish, my friend.”

“You’ve never fallen in love?” Remus asked, because apparently he was utterly unable to keep his mouth shut.

“Nah. Don’t see what all the fuss is about. Who needs any of it when I’ve got you lot?”

“Won’t be much kissing happening if we’re only keeping to ourselves,” Peter said, finally giving up on catching the Hufflepuff girl’s gaze.

They were getting close to the castle and Remus kicked snow off is boots, distractedly. It wasn’t as if Sirius’ declaration came as a surprise to Remus. There’d never been signs of Sirius favouring anyone in that way. He’d never talked about anyone in particular or been spotted staring into thin air with a besotted, James-like expression on his face. 

It was just one of those things, nobody’s fault. No one to blame for the silly ache behind Remus’ ribs. Sometimes people fell in love with their uninterested friend; not much to be done about that except hang on and endure the ride as best as he could and wait until he got over it. Because certainly he’d get over it, right? Maybe not this very second, with Sirius’ arm thrown around his shoulder, but one day. One day.

Until then he could live with it. Live with this hollow ache in his chest.

“What about you, Remus?” Of course James had to ask. Always one to include them all, that one. “Has sixth year been stirring any romantic emotions for you?”

“Nope,” Remus said, choosing his most convincing lilt to his voice. Luckily he’d always been a good liar. “Not even a little.”

Sirius patted him on the shoulder and whooped, delighted. “That’s my man! It seems we’re the only sensible Marauders left, so we’d better stick together.” 

“So it would seem.” 

_Good,_ Remus thought. _This is good._ Remus had never learned to lie as compellingly to himself as to everyone else, so his own words had little power. _I don’t love him. Of course I don’t love him._ But he did. He did.

He pulled up his collar and disappeared into his scarf. Sooner or later he’d learn his lesson. He was almost certain of it.

**v.**

Pining for an entire year. _Merlin’s saggy arse, Remus, how pathetic._ At least he wasn’t quite pathetic enough to have broken his rule and said anything about it. 

Today, he and Sirius had spent the end of their lunch break in the Clock Tower Courtyard. Sirius had waved his wand and muttered the spell to melt enough snow for them to sit snugly on their favourite bench, without getting their cloaks soaked through. The courtyard was nearly empty, and they were sitting in comfortable silence. Or so Remus thought until Sirius cleared his throat and seemed to struggle with where to put his hands. In his lap. On the bench. On Remus’ shoulder, briefly. In his lap again.

Remus could hear Sirius’ long breaths, and just when he was about to ask Sirius if something was the matter, Sirius turned to Remus and whispered, “Fuck it”. 

He leaned closer to Remus, close enough for Remus to study the pattern of Sirius’ irises if he wanted to, and then he kissed Remus on the mouth, hard, not moving his lips, before letting go and leaning back, looking at Remus with caution written all over his face. 

“I’m – ” he said, hesitant and wide-eyed, and then he looked away, down into his lap. 

It had just started snowing, a light sprinkle landing on the ground and on the pear tree in front of them and on Sirius’ dark eyelashes. 

“What was that?” said Remus, a little helplessly.

“Nothing,” said Sirius, and wasn’t that the joke of the century, because it wasn’t nothing to Remus, it really fucking wasn’t. 

Sirius wrung his hands together. They were red and cold and looked ready for someone to warm them up, take them underneath a winter cloak, perhaps, guide them against a pounding heart and feel them slowly warming up. 

“I just wanted to try it.” Sirius lifted his eyes again, looking wonderful and terrible and utterly devastating. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. I wanted to see what it was like.” He smiled, a little shakily. “Did you like it? We can do it, you know, keep kissing, I mean. If you want to.”

Remus hated this; the buzz and thrum of his heart, the way it started and stopped at Sirius’ beck and call, how he soared or ached depending on what Sirius said and did.

“No, we can’t,” he said. 

Sirius bit his lip. “Didn’t you like it?” 

Merlin’s tits. Sirius sounded so small, so dejected, and Remus was an idiot who never learned, unable to let Sirius think he didn’t like the feel of Sirius’ lips against his own.

“I did,” said Remus. In a split second Sirius looked ready to lean in again, brilliantly happy. Remus held up his hand.

“This isn’t something we can do. Not if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it! I told you, I wanted to see what it was like, and I wouldn’t have wanted to keep kissing you if it didn’t make me feel good.”

“Yeah, but...” What was it about Sirius that always made Remus break his own rules? Here went another one out the window. “I’m... in love with you. I can’t kiss you like it doesn’t mean more than making each other feel good. I mean, kissing in general is supposed to feel good, you know, but this is a lot more than that to me.”

There. He’d said it. Now it was just a matter of sitting back and watching Sirius’ eyes fill up with pity, or watch him being disgusted, or, if he was in a particularly vicious mood, laugh his arse off.

None of it happened. Instead, Sirius shook his head, confused, like he didn’t understand what Remus was saying.

“Oh,” he said. “I don’t know what to say, Remus. I’ve never really thought about you like that, not until....” He bit his lip, wide-eyed and beautiful. “I didn’t know what it would be like. And now I do.”

He straightened his back, looking determined. “I’d never want to hurt you. I won’t kiss you. Not unless I know that I mean it. For real.”

“Okay. Good.” That was really good. No more kissing. Remus knew he’d done the right thing, but it hurt anyway, like tiny pieces of broken glass tearing into his heart. 

“So. How’s your Transfiguration essay coming along?” It was a testament to how in tune to each other they were that Sirius immediately picked up on Remus’ change of subject, throwing himself into this new conversation without batting an eye. 

It wasn’t until it was almost time to go inside again for their Potions class that Sirius lifted his hand to Remus’ face, cold fingers touching Remus’ cheek. It had started snowing for real, a white blanket sprinkling Sirius’ hair and his cloak and the bench.

Sirius took a deep breath and muttered, “Okay, then,” to himself, before leaning in again, kissing Remus with all the gentleness that his first attempt lacked. And fuck it, Remus had no restraints left, all his defenses shattered to pieces by the feel of Sirius breathing into his mouth. He put his hands in Sirius’ hair and kissed him back, hoping with quiet desperation that when they broke apart he wouldn’t see anything crushing in those grey eyes. 

They kissed a long time, softly, cold noses brushing against each other. And when they pulled away, there was no doubt or confusion or any other thing that Remus feared in Sirius’ face. Remus dared to breathe. 

“I don’t know what this means,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and you’re my friend and I – “

Remus let out a sound that could be a sob or a laugh, coming from somewhere deep in his throat. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing either,” he said, blinking away something that was almost certainly a snowflake. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. We can be clueless together.”

He watched as Sirius’s smile went soft at the corners of his mouth. Like looking at Remus was all he could ever wish for. 

Maybe this would turn out okay after all. Maybe even wonderful.

***

***

It was the coldest day so far in seventh year, which was saying a lot. Inside the dormitory, it was nice and cosy underneath thick, scarlet blankets, and the warm glow of gold chandeliers gave the room an intimate feel. 

Remus and Sirius had the dormitory to themselves, an all too rare occurrence. Peter had attended a meeting in the Gobstones Club and James was out for a romantic, early morning walk around the lake with Lily, who’d apparently lost all sense and decided that dating James was actually a good idea.

Strange, really, how much easier it was to be happy for them now that Remus had someone special in his life himself. He’d never learned the art of smothering down all his jealousy, despite having had plenty of practice.

“I’m not getting out from under these warm covers at all today.” Sirius stretched like the dog he was and let out a contented sigh. “What do you say, Moony? Want to spend the entire Saturday in bed with me?”

“Doesn’t sound very productive, now does it?” Remus tilted his head against Sirius’ naked shoulder.

“Oh, I suppose you have a rule against that?”

“Well if I did I’m certain you’d convince me to break it,” Remus said, curling against Sirius. “But as it so happens, I don’t.”

“That’s a relief.” Sirius turned to look at Remus, a look full of intent. Remus could feel the prickle of that look, trying not to succumb completely to the thrill of it.

To be honest, he wasn’t trying very hard. 

“I think,” he said, “that it’s time for me to make a new rule. One of my own, one that I won’t feel like breaking whenever I’m with you.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Maybe something like _every time a Saturday is cold as fuck and we can get rid of Peter and James, we’ll spend as much time as possible in bed. Together._ What do you think?”

Sirius laughed, breathing hot air into Remus’ neck. “As much fun as rule-breaking is, that does sound like a rule it’d be more fun following to the letter.” He cupped Remus’ jaw, whispering in his ear. “I approve.”

And then he sat up, slowly, moving into Remus’ lap, long legs on either side of him. He gave his hips a little push, and a choked noise left Remus as he pushed back. 

“I’m glad it’s to your liking,” Remus said, reaching out to clutch at Sirius’ hips, pulling him forwards. 

The friction from Sirius’ movements drove a throaty moan from Remus, and Sirius looked at him, eyes dark with lust. “The only thing about you that’s not to my liking right now, Moony, is that you’re wearing far too many clothes.”

He tugged at Remus’ t-shirt, pulling it off, leaving them both in their boxers. “That’s better,” he said while rolling his hips, letting his hands caress Remus’ chest and shoulders before leaning down, kissing Remus with an open mouth. 

Remus’ gasp as they ground their hips together should probably have been embarrassing, but he was well past such concerns by now. He clutched Sirius’ hair, pulling just a little at the dark strands. Just enough to make Sirius move harder, quicker, rocking back and forth over Remus’ hips. 

“Fuck,” Remus said, breathing the word into Sirius’ mouth.

“That’s the idea.” Sirius ground down again, and Remus was gone. He arched his spine, seeking the pressure he desperately needed, and with a string of whines and sighs and choked praises, he came.

Sirius followed soon after. 

Afterwards he slumped down beside Remus, their legs entangled and arms around each other.

“I can’t believe,” said Sirius, “that we didn’t even get to be naked before we finished.”

Remus laughed, a giddy laugh full of joy. Full of love. “If we’re going to spend the entire day in bed, there’ll be plenty of time for that.” He cupped Sirius’ jaw, and they lay quietly for a while, breathing together.

“I love this new rule of yours,” said Sirius, drowsily.

“I’m quite pleased with it myself.” 

Remus watched as Sirius closed his eyes, falling asleep again under the warm blankets. “I love you,” Remus whispered, letting his hand come to rest on Sirius’ chest. 

Next time, he’d say those words when Sirius was awake to hear them.


End file.
